Chapter One
We greet each other the way brothers do.
"You look older than Bob Barker."
"When did your dog learn to talk?"
We both laugh and hug each other.
Nathaniel is my 'little' brother. I've always called him Nat, and never Nate. Other than having the same last name, we are very different. For one thing, he's 5'10" and hates that I'm 4 inches taller. He's always been in great shape. Me, not so much. He lifts weights. I lift my weight. He's a talker. I'm more of a listener, at least compared to a guy who won't shut up.
"Come on in Mitch," he says, opening the door wider. "It's great to see you."
As I step inside, Nat squeezes back against the door frame with dramatic exaggeration.
"Can you get by me, you big slob?"
Brothers are like that. Men in general are like that. The more affection they feel for each other, the more insulting they become. Nat and I love each other, so the derision almost never stops.
"I'm actually down a few pounds, imbecile."
"Really? Your boobs look bigger than Bella's."
Bella is his wife. Officially she is Mirabella, and his second wife. Actually, now that I think about it, she is his third. And there had been some other serious relationships after his first dumpster fire of a marriage. And probably some after the extremely brief and forgettable second marriage. But Bella is a keeper. Ten years younger than Nat, she's a sweetheart. She manages to keep him in line, and still let Nat be Nat. She's Hispanic, and I've wondered if her background is a factor in putting up with his machismo. The common denominator in the failed marriages was my brother. That's why a terrific woman like Bella, loving my brother so much, gives me reassurance that he wasn't the main problem.
"Take a load off, and I'll get us a beer." Nat points to the brace of brown leather recliners, facing the fireplace. I sit, and wait until he brings me a can of something I'd never heard of, with a ridiculously stupid name.
Back to our differences. To start out with, I'm still married to the same woman I met in college. We've been together nearly 25 years. She doesn't care too much for my brother. Says he's a bad influence on me. She tolerates him. That's why I'm here alone. At least once a year, I spend a week at his place, and we reconnect. We go fishing, hit the links, shoot skeet, drink beer, reminisce, and smoke cigars. It's about the only time I get to do most of those things. Not that I couldn't if I wanted to, but life is busy with other stuff.
When I got out of college, I went into business. Did okay for myself. Nat calls it the soft life. That's because when he got out of college, he went to officer training school. He spent the next 10 years in the Marines, and then went into the reserves where he topped out at Lieutenant Colonel. He's four years younger than me. He's in a second career. A security company. He's doing well.
"So, you lost some weight." There was some implied skepticism. "Good for you. Did you finally get off your fat ass and use my training regimen?"
Before I can answer, he answers for me. "I'm sure you didn't. You probably went on Jenny Craig, like a pussy."
"Don't talk that way when ladies are present." The admonishing voice came from behind us. I stand up.
"Great to see you Bella," I say, making my way toward her.
And it is. She has a refreshing, natural beauty. No pretense. Nothing like Nat's first wife, Madison. Everything was fake, from her boobs to her personality. Nat was all in favor of the boob job. But that installation was the beginning of the end for the marriage. Sometimes when you get something new, you want to show it off. That was Maddy. She put them on display and started sleeping with any man who caught her fancy whenever Nat was gone. I'm pretty sure she carried on with a couple of women too. Eventually Nat found out and it was over.
I don't remember much about wife #2. She was Nat's rebound. The opposite of Maddy in the most obvious ways. Identical in the crazy. That marriage didn't last a year.
In contrast to those two, Bella is real. Her dark hair, brown skin, and flashing white teeth warm my heart. And when she smiles, I can't help but smile too. She's short, which seems to soothe Nat's ego, height-wise. She is also full-figured. Any extra pounds are in all the right places. Her boobs are definitely bigger than mine. Always have been. Always will be.
"The best looking brother is always welcome," she retorts. And we hug. Bella is witty, but also smart enough not to say something like welcoming the 'taller brother.' Nat couldn't take that.
"Don't let me interrupt," she says releasing the embrace, "I'm just going to start dinner."
I jump in. "Oh, but I was going to take you two out."
"Maybe another day," she responds, "it's Friday night, and I like to cook for my men." As she heads for the kitchen, she calls back over her shoulder, "You better be hungry."
I know I am. Bella is a good cook. My Linda is pretty good too. She just doesn't enjoy cooking. I try my hand at it, but we eat out or order in a lot. My eyes follow Bella all the way out of the room. She's wearing jeans that show off her backside. As it sways out of sight, I feel something stirring that shouldn't stir when looking at your sister-in-law. Nat seems not to notice.
He asks, "So how's the exciting world of spreadsheets and profit-margins?"
"Not as lucrative as installing cameras in people's homes, I see." That is how I acknowledge his newly installed pool, which I spot through the French doors to the right of the fireplace.
We swap work stories for a bit. Nat mostly complains about how hard it is to find good employees.
"Hey," I say, getting out of the chair, "I think we should go in the kitchen and help Bella. I can't tolerate just sitting here while she does all the work."
Nat shrugs, but by way of agreement says, "I need another beer anyway."
I follow him into the kitchen, but refuse the second beer. I'm still nursing whatever the hell it was he gave me the first time.
"Bella," I ask, "I want to help. Please put me to work!"
She flashes me that smile. "You're so sweet. Apparently you weren't raised by wolves like your brother."
"I'm here to help too," Nat says defensively. "He's mostly here to gaze at your outrageous beauty...and booty."
I feel my face burn just a bit from what might be close to the truth.
"Not that I can blame him," he adds, giving her rear a loving pat. "You are the hottest babe I've ever known."
"You've always been a smooth talker, honey." Then to me she says, "I'm making Paella, along with roasted corn. It's all under control. The food I mean, not my husband."
"There must be something I can do," I plead, "I mean about the food, not my brother. I want to earn my keep."
She giggles. "You could mix up a pitcher of Margaritas. Oh, and if you want something to take the edge off your hunger, try my Bunuelos."
"Yes," mocks Nat, "try her Bunuelos." He points at her butt and laughs. It's a juvenile comment, and makes my brother sound like a jerk, but I know he can't help himself. Meanwhile, Bella ignores that and uncovers a plate of the yummy looking treat, and pushes it in my direction.
"I'm a sucker for anything fried and covered in cinnamon sugar," I say, taking a bite.
After consuming more than my share of fried dough, I get to work on the Margaritas. All the while, the smell of the meat, herbs, and spices from the Paella makes me even hungrier.
Finally, we sit down at the table. Everything is delicious, and I say so. My brother agrees, and Bella appreciates the comments. The pitcher of Margaritas disappears, and conversation flows.
"Why don't you make us another round, big brother?" Nat grins. "Get her drunk enough and she'll be swinging from that stripper pole in our bedroom tonight."
My eyes get wide and I make a face that might be a cross between hope, incredulity, and curiosity.
Bella swats her husband, and then glances at me. "He's not serious, Mitch. You don't think...there's no such...imagine me on a stripper pole," she says dismissively.
Actually, I was doing so at that very moment. It is something I would very much like to see. But I don't say that out loud. What I manage to say is...
"I'm sure you'd be great on a pole...uh...as a stripper..."
Nat laughs until he couldn't breathe. Bella blushes.
"What I mean is, you'd look great doing anything you wanted to do." Not my best save.
"Um, thanks?" She scrunches up her face in a way that communicates embarrassment. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I made Tres Leches for dessert. Honey, why don't you brew some decaf to go with it?"
As Nat makes coffee, I clear the table, and Bella puts away the leftovers. It didn't take long before we each have a slice of cake and a steaming cup of decaf in front of us.
"Delicious," I exclaim. "This is one of Linda's favorites. She would love this."
"I'm always sorry when she doesn't come with you," Bella replies, "we have a good time together while you guys are off doing boy stuff."
"She likes you too," I say, trying not to emphasize the fact that it was only my brother Linda didn't care for. "but, you know, she was too busy to get away."
"Things going okay with you two?" Nat asks with a rare touch of concern and insight.
"Sure, um, things are fine."
There was a little silence. I was wondering what to say when Nat breaks in.
"So can you stay all week? Like at least through next Saturday?"
"That's the plan, if you'll have me."
"Of course! We've got a lot to fit in. I can't take off from work the whole time, but we'll be able to golf and fish and whatever else you want to do."
Bella stands up. "You guys plan out your week. I've got a few things to finish, and then I'm going to bed." She kisses Nat, and gives me a peck on the cheek. "You know where you room is, Mitch. Same as always. Towels are on the bed. Get up whenever you want to in the morning."
When she's gone, Nat leads me back to the recliners. Before sitting down, he goes to the bar, grabs two tumblers, and pours two fingers of whisky in each. He hands me one. We sip in silence for a few moments.
"Spill the beans, bro."
"About what?"
"Something's not quite right in Mitchellville. Trouble with America's oldest married couple?"
I sigh. "Not really..." After a pause, I add, "The truth is that aging is a real bummer."
"Don't I know it. Having a younger wife is what keeps me going." He pauses, and gives me a serious look. "But I think you've got it good. Linda's no slouch. She's always been a good looking woman. And she's in a lot better shape than you, my Pillsbury dough brother."
"Yeah, it's Pilates or Peleton or some other 'p' word. I'm as attracted to her now, as I ever was."
"Despite the fact that she doesn't admire me, I've appreciated her. She's been good to you. You got it right the first time, big brother. I had a few swings and misses before hitting a home run."
"And you connected big time, Nat. Bella's great, and great for you."
"So what is it? If you can't tell me, who you gonna call?"
I don't say a word as I weigh my options. Truthfully, there is no one else I can unload on. And I realize I need to get this off my chest.
"You can't tell anyone," I threaten. "Not even Bella. I'll kick your ass!"
